The Gale

The great gale shook me to my very core. The wild, rushing soul of the wind assailed the surface of the ground with sheer violence, sweeping me flat as if I had been a mere reed. Beyond my fear came an overwhelming sadness as I watched the world I had always known be swept clean and barren. The beauty before me lay raw, the face of the earth scarred and shrieking. The lush grass, upon which my own feet had trod so many moonlit nights, swirled precariously past me as the wind rendered it limpid. With halting determination, I found my footing and lifted my chin towards the sky, the longing to glimpse even a spot of brightness overcoming any other feeling. As I did so, the face of blackness blotted out each last light, and my dalliance with the stars was at an end. Madness gripping me, I swallowed a scream and closed my eyes, feeling the wrath of God pour out around me. Trembling, I waited for death.